A/N: Ok, so I abandoned this story a year ago, but, lately, I've received a couple of reviews asking me to update. Now, I wrote this chapter a good year ago, but I didn't like it then. Upon rereading it, I realized it wasn't too horrible and edited it up a bit. I'm still not completely happy, but, whatever. And don't judge me: this idea was from my younger-self's brain. And it's not even Christmas time now…

Warning: OOCness, slashy jokes, and let's-make-Les-Amis-do-stupid-stuff abounds. Please put your seat in an upright position and put all tray tables back in place. Thank you.

It was with a heavy heart that our friend Enjolras walked to the Café Musain that day. His wonderful plan to acquire the musket had failed. His essay had failed. He had failed. It was awful! Life - it seemed to the blond revolutionist - could not possibly get any worse. Unfortunately for him and Marius Pontmercy, who, despite not actually being part of the Amis de ABC, seemed to want to follow Enjolras back, it did get worse.

As Enjolras and Marius cut through an alley way, they came face to face with the handsome young man (most likely the second handsomest young man in Paris, Enjolras got the honor of being first) who liked nothing better than to torment and bully the honest folk, Montparnasse. To make matters worse, his little sidekick, Eponine was there as well.

Oh shut the front door.

"Where ya goin'? I had something to talk to you about!" Montparnasse said slyly, balling his hand into a fist.

"Ya take the blondy: I wan' Monsieur Marius!" Eponine purred in her low, rough voice.

"Sure, sure…" Montparnasse lazily crooned, "tubby is all yours, doll."

Oh God… what that girl would do to Marius! Enjolras took a brief second to ponder his friend's fate, decided that Pontmercy was a lost cause anyways, and started running for it.

"Run like the wind, Pontmercy!" Enjolras called over his shoulder. Poor Marius - who had not bothered to workout ever and was burdened by the many coats he had worn as a precautionary measure against the cold - was much, much slower than Enjolras. However, both made it out of the alleyway alive and sprinted to the Musain. Inside, he collapsed breathlessly into a chair. Marius stumbled in after him and fell on an unsuspecting Courfeyrac.

"Argh! What the French toast, Marius?" Courfeyrac pushed his roommate onto the ground. "What are you doing here? I thought you said that Enjolras scares you."

"H-he… does… scare… me… very freaking that dude… and too blond must use some sort of…hair dye." Marius panted.

"Haha! Hair dye, yes! Or bleach: hair that blond is totally not natural!" Courfeyrac joked.

Enjolras self-consciously ran a hand through his long blond hair, even thought hair dye would not be invented a few centuries. Then he glared at both Marius and Courfeyrac, "I hope you both know that I am right here and have heard every word of your exchange!"

"Meep!" Marius, upon realizing that he had just offended the very man that he had often thought to be hiding under his bed at night, waiting to kill him, ran for the door. At that very moment, the door to the café burst open and a delivery man with a very large package walked in.

"I, uh-" the man began, "have a delivery for a M. Grantaire."

"My prize!" Grantaire jumped up from his usual stoop in the corner and ran to the package.

Joly looked confused, "What are you talking ab-"

"Sheesh… remember yesterday when Grantaire started talking about the contest he had entered?" Combeferre explained, "Well, this must be whatever he had won. Now, I believe that the real question here is; how the frak did you get a delivery service to deliver to the cafe?"

"Oh that? That's nothing! You just have to know the right people." Grantaire looked up from hugging his new prize.

"Alright… can we get back to me and my story?" Enjolras asked angrily. "I have yet to have a thoughtshot into my head about my Red R-"

"Wait, hold on Enjolras!" Grantaire said, "Let's all see what I have won first! "

All the Amis quickly gathered 'round the large brown box, pushing each other out of the way so that they could be the first to see this wonderful trophy.

"Now, if I could just…" Grantaire pulled the top off the box, "tada! Here is my brand new… lamp?"

Everyone was shocked and a few possibly scared - or, in the case of Jehan, weeping with the sight her beheld - when the much awaited prize turned out to be an oil lamp in the form of a woman's leg.

"What the hell kind of monstrosity is that thing?" Enjolras fumed. "Remove it from my sight at once! It detracts from everything that we are for, it belittles our cause, i-it is against the republic in all its forms!" Enjolras was about to stand on a table when Grantaire pulled him down.

"Come on! I won it; won't you let me keep it?" Grantaire gently asked his hero.

Enjolras, startled to find himself in the other man's grasp, pulled himself away before the horrible slash fans arrived.

"Absolutely not!"

"Please?"

"No!"

"But Ennjjjooolllrraasss!" Grantaire tried to look cute, but failed miserably.

"Hold on a minute," Marius emerged from where he was lurking in the doorway, "Can someone please answer my question?"

"WHAT!" Enjolras was way past his breaking point.

"I… I ah…" Marius hesitated, afraid of facing Enjolras' wrath, "I'm not sure what you guys are arguing about. Can't we all just be friends?" At this, Marius began to prepare to burst into song. Jehan looked only too happy at the prospect of a sing along. However, a crash from outside and a quick curse made all the Amis run out the door.

"Nooo!" On the snow covered pavement lay the shattered fragments of the lamp.

"Courfeyrac: what the hell were you thinking?" Combeferre stood, hands on his hips, glaring at the other man.

"But 'Ferre, I liked it! Besides – ohh: you look very nice in this light!" Obviously, the flirty student had decided to take the creepy lamp for his own, and then had dropped it.

Combeferre was not one for flattery, "at least that's settled." He stated, rolling his eyes.

Grantaire let out a sob and moved in to hug Enjolras, but the taller man quickly side stepped away and rapidly walked from the wreckage, a smile on his face.

Well, looks like I've won again.

Walking home from class the next day, Enjolras found himself once again in low spirits. He had no new ideas to get his gun, despite having zoned out in all his classes thinking about it. His thoughts were interrupted with a scream. Looking up quickly, Enjolras just had enough time to see Marius being attacked by a dark shape before he felt a presence behind him.

It was Montparnasse.

"Hello again" the dandy smirked, "how'd you like to no longer be the best looking person in Paris? It must be so hard, having fangirls follow you around all the time." Montparnasse took a step closer, "But, fortunately, I can help you with that. With my fist. In your face. Then, you'll look normal" he paused, "ish."

Enjolras froze. Then, without thinking, he balled up his hand and hit Montparnasse as hard as he could. Montparnasse, surprised, doubled over.

"No one," Enjolras spat (in a beautiful way, of course) "touches my face!"

He hit Montparnasse again who, for the sake of the story, fell over, unconscious. With a yell, Enjolras charged Eponine and, also for the sake of the story, scared her off. If it hadn't help move the plot along, both Montparnasse and Eponine could have easily felled Enjolras.

However, Enjolras, unaware of this fact, was jumping up in down in celebration. Until he saw a figure moving towards him: Combeferre.

Uh oh, someone's in trouble…

"I- uh – I'm sorry, 'Ferre and Pontmercy, I didn't mean to be so violent, you guys aren't mad: right?" Enjolras stammered meekly.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, "You're twenty-two: you can do whatever you want!"

"My hero!" Marius hugged Enjolras briefly before he realized what he was doing, gave a little yelp and jumped away.

"Really?" Enjolras asked, a feeling of relief settling over him.

"Sure… whatever, besides: why should I complain about you taking out one of the members of Patron-Minette?"

Enjolras pondered for a moment, looking down at the unconscious Montparnasse before speaking.

"Well," Enjolras began, "how did this chapter further the readers' lives at all?"

Combeferre stared off into space for a while, "The thing is, Enjolras: it really didn't. But I'm proud of you: you stood up for yourself." And, not to sound sappy, he added, "and you broke the fourth wall."

"Ok then… let's go back to the Musain. We can leave Montparnasse here: I am willing to bet that he won't be bothering us for a long time."

"Yay!" Marius yelled, making a reemergence.

With that, all three boys linked arms and skipped back to the warmth and joy of the café, because that is what is in character for them to do.

Our scene ends with everyone sitting around a fire and laughing. The camera zooms out, showing the café, and then continues to zoom, not showing all of Paris. In the last frame it shows you, dear reader, sitting at your computer just as you are now. Fade to black.

Maybe I'll write the last chapter, maybe not. Reviews are appreciated.